


feel it in my bones

by brophigenia



Series: czernsgiving 2019 [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Broning, Clothed Sex, Czernsgiving Day 1, Feelings, Ghost Sex, M/M, Netflix and Chill, dvds and grinding?, handjobs, or like, the noughties version of netflix and chill, william shakespeare's romeo + juliet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brophigenia/pseuds/brophigenia
Summary: What did it say about Ronan, that the safest he ever felt was when he lay curled up with a dead boy?(AKA, Ronan and Noah watch a movie. With sexy results. For Czernsgiving Day 1: i was more/make do with less/if i were alive)
Relationships: Noah Czerny/Ronan Lynch, Richard Gansey III/Ronan Lynch
Series: czernsgiving 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559659
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	feel it in my bones

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, heauxs! With a Roah fic for Czernsgiving as my 100th fic on AO3! Thank you all for sticking with me through my November hibernation (AKA, NaNoWriMo Hell) and I hope you like this trashfire I have for you! 
> 
> Title from Vampire Weekend, cut quotes from Call Me By Your Name.

_ he came.  _

_ he left.  _

_ *** _

“Put your hands on me,” Noah whispered, knowing that it was no use, grinning wide and unbearably pretty. Ronan’s bed smelled like dried cold-sweat, like stale adrenaline and loneliness. Noah did not smell like anything, not really, but Ronan swore that he could taste blood in his mouth whenever they were close like this, twined together. 

(What did it say about Ronan, that the safest he ever felt was when he lay curled up with a dead boy?) 

On the screen of Gansey’s borrowed laptop, Mercutio died a choking, sputtering death not unlike the Pig’s usual death throes. (Not unlike  _ Noah’s  _ usual death throes.) “A  _ plague,”  _ Noah mumbled, as wispy and intangible as a crystal vase that needed a wash, speaking along with the dying man. “On  _ both  _ your houses.” 

Ronan shivered, and not for chill or fear. “You’re such a fuckin’ nerd.” He whispered back, unwilling to speak any louder. They had the volume on Gansey’s laptop turned almost all the way down, and past the open door they could hear the ruminating sounds of Gansey writing. Ronan knew without looking that Gansey was curled over his notebook at the ancient, stately rolltop desk, wearing his wireframe glasses and a sweater, the winter chill creeping in along Monmouth’s giant, streaky windows. 

Ronan imagined the fine knob of Gansey’s wrists beneath the cuffs of his sweater, the smear of ink along the outside of his writing hand, the furrow of his dark brows and the inward curl of his broad shoulders. Gansey always seemed smaller than he really was, when he was writing. He’d fall asleep soon enough if they didn’t give him any reason  _ not  _ to; a few hours of sleep facedown on the fruits of his obsessive notetaking was better than no sleep at all. 

_ “You’re  _ a nerd fucker,” Noah grumbled back, and burrowed deeper into Ronan’s embrace, blowing out a cold absence of breath onto the tattooed skin of his nape. Goosebumps rose, his shaved scalp  _ prickling.  _

“What does that even  _ mean?”  _ Ronan managed on a gasp, and was hard in his sweatpants. It happened. He was seventeen, and sleep-deprived, and Noah was dead but he was beautiful, too, the way broken windows were beautiful. Jagged and dangerous and transparent and no longer serving any purpose except to be a reminder of what had been and would never be again. 

Noah felt it, because he was dead and he had  _ certain powers,  _ and Ronan let his eyes fall shut when Noah  _ touched _ him, curious and knowing all at once. “Close the door,” he whispered hoarsely, only because he knew he wouldn’t want to get up and do it afterward, and he was afraid of what would come out of his hazy afterglow dreams. 

Noah didn’t let go, fingers still curled around Ronan’s dick through his sweats, but the door closed all the same. Ronan turned his head towards the mattress, buried his face in the comforter that smelled like nothing but his own laundry and dust, because Noah didn’t smell like anything and Noah didn’t sleep in it and Noah was dead and—

“Quit that,” Noah said, and set teasing teeth to his earlobe, tugging just like he was tugging on Ronan’s cock. “You overthink  _ everything,  _ you’re worse than G, I  _ swear—“  _

Ronan laughed, breathless. He felt like his stomach was full of thorns but his throat was full of honey, spilling out and becoming sunshine with every fucking stuttered breath. “Ghosts can’t swear—“ he said, and his hips thrust forward into Noah’s grip of their own accord. He thought of Noah touching Gansey like this, Noah curled around Gansey at the desk and pressing dry kisses to the skin beneath his ear, thought about being on his knees for Gansey with Gansey’s hand curled around his skull, thought about how good he felt.  _ Everything _ felt so good. It was so much. 

“Fuck shit damn  _ bitch,”  _ Noah laughed delightedly in his ear. “If love be rough with you then be rough with love—“ Ronan bit down on the comforter and felt  _ rabid _ with it, hips stuttering, thrusting forward. He was so  _ warm _ . Even  _ Noah _ started to feel warm, behind and around him.  _ “Ronan.”  _ Ronan gasped and snorted a little bit through his nose and  _ came,  _ all the tension in his muscles finally snapping, finally turning into pleasure and not just  _ torture.  _

“Noah,” he mouthed, silent, limbs heavy and eyes closed. Noah heard him. Noah was everywhere. Noah was  _ everywhere, _ and he was not-breathing between Ronan’s shoulderblades, holding him tight. 

“Ronan.” Noah said, urgent and timeless and toneless.  _ I was more, I was alive, I would’ve— if I was alive I would’ve—  _ and Ronan heard it all, felt it all, in his head and in his ears and against his skin. 

“I know.” Ronan said back, and fell asleep as Leonardo DiCaprio screamed  _ either thou, or I, or BOTH must go with him!  _ tearful and beautiful. Noah stayed behind, watching over his restless, fretful dreaming. 

The door stayed shut. Gansey stayed safe. 

_ *** _

_ all that remains is dreammaking  _

_ and strange remembrance.  _

**Author's Note:**

> follow me @ brophigenia.tumblr.com  
> find me @ ko-fi.com/brophigenia  
> follow me on twitter @ twitter.com/brophigenia


End file.
